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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27263200">Shot In The Dark</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickSilverFox3/pseuds/QuickSilverFox3'>QuickSilverFox3</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020 [17]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Old Guard (Movie 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blackmail, Blood and Injury, Canon Compliant, Depressed Booker | Sebastien le Livre, Drabble Collection, F/F, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Missing Scene, Pre-Canon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-09 03:14:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,000</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27263200</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickSilverFox3/pseuds/QuickSilverFox3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“I didn’t tell them!” Booker couldn’t meet Nicky’s gaze, glancing briefly at Joe, then Andy, before he bowed his head, curling his hands over the back of his neck.</p><p>[No 17. I DID NOT SEE THAT COMING Blackmail | Dirty Secret | Wrongfully Accused]</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Andy | Andromache of Scythia &amp; Booker | Sebastien le Livre, Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Quynh | Noriko, Booker | Sebastien le Livre &amp; Booker | Sebastien le Livre's Children, Booker | Sebastien le Livre/Nile Freeman, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Lykon &amp; Quynh | Noriko</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020 [17]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947016</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>81</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Shot In The Dark</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“I know, Papa.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Booker’s blood ran cold, fingers tensing on the neck of the bottle before he forced himself to raise it to his lips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you talking about, petit?” He tried to keep his voice light, the wine turning to ash in his mouth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His son, hair still as golden as the sunrise, stared at him with the same look of reproach he had worn when Booker left for the war. “I know you can’t die.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Any protest died on Booker’s lips, and he crumbled, bowing his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You need to help me, Papa. Or I’ll tell everyone.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Yusuf wanted to sleep, exhaustion dragging at his very soul. The war felt like it would never end, chipping away at his very soul. Normally the dark thoughts plagued him as he curled up in his blankets at night, wondering if his next death would be his final.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yusuf.” The hand on elbow was a surprise, too tired to protest as Hakam steered him into an alleyway. “I saw you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am very pleasing to look at—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hakam cut him off, the blade cold against Yusuf’s sweat soaked skin. “I saw you and that Crusader. Now you will help me.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Andromache carefully picked up the yellowed paper, tracing a gentle finger across the delicate flow of Quynh’s handwriting. The other woman leant over her shoulder, ignoring the trembling blade that was swiftly levelled at her by the man sitting across the table. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where did you find these?” Her voice was light, almost delighted. “Look Andy, remember this poem?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I need—” The man swallowed nervously. “I need money, and you are going to give it to me. Or I will make this public.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will remove your head from your shoulders and make you eat your tongue,” Quynh told him gently.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was easy to start texting Copley their location. Joe and Nicky could see nothing but each other (Booker ignored the twist of guilt in his chest as he watched them curled up together). </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t remember when it became so easy to lie to them, layer upon layer until he felt like he was drowning with them. They trusted him so easily, and it hurt like he was hanging all over again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His thumb hovered over the undo, their coordinates seeming to burn into his eyes as he stared. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Booker wanted to die. He knew Andy did as well. </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“I knew you’d be here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nile jumped, hand flying to the gun at her waist, but Booker caught her wrist gently with a wink. “Hello, dear.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nile hissed out a slow breath, feeling the prickle of eyes upon her like hands pressing against her shoulders. “Don’t call me dear.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Honey, then.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nile’s scowl only deepened but she appreciated what he was doing: keeping her angry so she wouldn’t start crying. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Booker shrugged, tapping two empty fingers against his lips. “I remember when I lost my family.” He squeezed her hand tight. “I won’t tell the others if you don’t.” </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Andy waited until the others had fallen asleep. She knew by the sounds of their breathing, but she paused to check on Nile. Her face was slack in her sleep, looking so young now that her dreams of drowning had stopped.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hindsight was both blessing and curse, allowing her to see how Booker had drawn away, the burden he carried driving him into the ground. But not again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was mortal, but not weak, not incompetent. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m outside.’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>The text from Booker buzzed against her hip again, nerves showing through. Andy picked up Labrys in one hand, and slipped outside.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Quynh. Stop.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lykon curled his fingers over the ropes that bound his arms, stopping Quynh’s increasingly frantic attempts at cutting them loose. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why?” Quynh hissed, her voice low and dangerous, gesturing with the knife so violently Andy worried that she would simply kill Lykon to free him faster. “They’ve got the wrong man.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know. But I will come back. The man who stole, he will not.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He might.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lykon laughed, lightly bumping his forehead to Quynh’s. “I want to do this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And if you don’t come back?” Quynh was resigned, sighing softly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then I died with a clear belief.” </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Andy let Nile lock the door of the safehouse behind them, shoving her shaking hands deep in her pockets as every breath felt like it scraped at her lungs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How did they know?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Joe didn't look at Booker, but Nicky held no such qualms, only barely restrained by Joe’s hands in his. “Why don’t we ask the traitor?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t tell them!” Booker couldn’t meet Nicky’s gaze, glancing briefly at Joe, then Andy, before he bowed his head, curling his hands over the back of his neck.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before, Andy couldn’t even consider one of her family betraying them, and yet…</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quynh’s hand was slick with sweat in hers, part restraint and part comfort as the crowd pressed in on them. Andy couldn’t make out what they were saying, but she knew the looks on their faces: teeth bared, and eyes burning with hatred they hadn’t earned yet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sobbing girl clung to her mother, her dress tainted green with pondscum and they were swallowed up in the sea of furious faces. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Witches!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rock struck Andy on the back, edges smooth and solid, sending her stumbling forward, dragging Quynh with her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Run,” Andy gasped, pushing Quynh as more rocks flew.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Money exchanged hands behind Nile’s head but she ignored it, focused on the tiny figures running on the cracked screen of the TV.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So how do they score points?” she asked Nicky, half turning her face to him, catching the lightning quick flicker of confusion on his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, my love.” Joe tugged down Nicky’s sweatshirt and kissed the hollow of his throat, easily accessible from his perch on Nicky’s lap. “How do they score points?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So cruel to me, caro.” Nicky sighed, tipping his head back as he thought. “Tries?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dammit,” Booker cursed, pressing notes into Joe’s waiting hands.</span>
</p>
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